


Thanks For the Memories

by MewMewMadness



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Alcohol, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author does not know how to tag shit please help, Author needs to stop having questions in the tags. He’s not getting answers, Awkward Crush, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Confident Ancom ftw, During Canon, Emotional Roller Coaster, Flashback Heavy, Hurt No Comfort, Idiots in Love, Is this too long to be a one shot? Do I even know what a one shot is?, Memory heavy, Other, Pining, Secret Crush, Smoking, fucking sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MewMewMadness/pseuds/MewMewMadness
Summary: In which Tankie copes with his beloved Anarkiddy going Post-Left and remembering things.(Note: this fic has nothing to do with the Fall Out Boy song.)
Relationships: Ancom/Commie, Left Unity, Tankie/Anarkiddy
Comments: 43
Kudos: 87





	Thanks For the Memories

**CW: alcohol, smoking, emeto/vomiting.**

  
  
  


He was exhausted, but it didn’t deter him from continuing to walk. His muscles ached and his body begged for rest, but all he could hear was the snow crunching under his feet, his own sniffling, and the thoughts swirling in his head. 

He fumbled with his keys as he stood in the doorway. Tankie could already hear those kulaks bickering, but for the first time in a while, he didn’t care. 

“Listen you degenerate fuck, I’m getting on the Xbox tonight. Don’t interfere or I’ll- oh. Commie’s back!” The racist said, not looking up from staring down his newly sworn enemy (at the moment.) 

He didn’t acknowledge him and continued towards Anarkiddy’s room. 

Ancap whined. “Come on, Commie, can’t you help me break up this-“

_ Slam!  _

He was alone now. He bit the tip of his glove and pulled it off. Anarkiddy’s room was… well, a fucking mess, but it was a haven to Tankie. He made his way towards the wall his friend seemed to like spray painting the most. 

_ “Sometimes Tankie, you should really try painting your walls!” Anarkiddy yelled over the sound of awful punk rock blasting in quis ears.  _

_ Tankie sighed. “But Anarkiddy, I take pride in my room.” He noticed qui wasn’t spraying anymore.  _

_ “I do too, Tankie. It’s just a bit different. This,” Qui gestured towards the wall, “gives me pride. Now would you be a dear and hand me the pink one?” _

_ Tankie could barely make out the colored bright pink cap due to all the paint splattered on it. He handed it to Anarkiddy. His comrade’s eyes met his. Who knew they were so captivating and- _

_ “Tankie. You can let go of the can now.”  _

_ Tankie pressed his lips. “Ah, sorry. Right. Uh..”  _

_ His fingertips brushed the anarchist’s. Fuck. He could feel the heat rising from his cheeks to his ushanka. It was so fast Ancap would call it the Red Scare.  _

_ He cleared his throat. “So. What are you painting now, comrade?”  _

_ Qui shook the can, “Just wait and see, Tankie!” _

He traced his hand across it.  _ Queer Liberation _ . Anarkiddy’s linework was amazing, the strokes swirled and best of all, it was vibrant.  _ Just like quem.  _ There were figures sprayed across it, some he recognized and some he didn’t. Marsha’s big smile, Frida’s flower crown, Freddie’s fist gripping the microphone. 

Tankie smiled ruefully. No use dwelling there. 

He walked to the coffee table where all of qui’s, er, paraphernalia was scattered about like papers on a messy businessman’s desk. Tankie noticed the half read book on a surprisingly clean section of the table.  _ Lenin.  _

_ Qui never did finish it. Not even after the riot.  _ He chuckled, knowing qui never would’ve anyways. 

Qui never would’ve. Tankie snapped back to reality. His eyes furiously darted around the room, attempting to find something else that he could remember quem by. There was a flash of baby pink from the corner of Anarkiddy’s unmade bed. 

_ Detka. That’s where she was?  _ Tankie’s heavy steps drew closer. His large hands wrapped around the plushie’s chubby torso. 

_ Tankie fumbled with his lighter, hoping to god there was still some fluid inside. The end of his cigarette finally lit. He hadn’t smoked since… hm. He’d already forgotten. He shifted from side to side, wondering if he’d finally gone too far.  _

Really? Asking quem on a date?  _ Tankie hoped his comrade took it as a “friend” date rather than romantic. Because they are friends. Of course.  _

_ “Ah! Tankie! There you are!”  _

_ He turned around. For once, Anarkiddy wasn’t wearing qui’s mask in public. He studied quis jawline, sharp and wondering if qui would want it lined with kisses if qui dated someone.  _

Wait a minute.  _ They are friends, of course. He did not like him- _ quem _ like that. This is just friendly and won’t go any further. They are friends. Just friends.  _

_ “Yes, ah, hi. Anarkiddy. Hello.” He ground his cigarette in the ash urn.  _

_ “You feeling okay, Tankie?” Qui stared at the still smoldering cigarette butt. “Haven’t seen you do that in a while.” _

_ “да, you don’t need to worry about me. Let’s go.” He cursed himself for wasting a perfectly good one, but there were more important matters to attend to.  _

_ Like going to a carnival.  _

_ -.-.-.-.-.-.-.- _

  
  


_ The shrill shrieks of children and the smell of cotton candy wafted over them. Anarkiddy’s eyes gleamed, reflecting the shining lights of a Ferris wheel.  _

_ “Tankie? Do you think we can go on it?” The anarchist tugged on Tankie’s coat. “Please? I’ll pay.” _

_ He felt his stomach drop. He wanted to make quem happy… but the thought of being so high up disturbed him deeply.  _

_ “Are you sure, comrade? Aren’t you scared?” Tankie teased, with a half smile. The only kind qui could get out of him.  _

_ Anarkiddy rolled quis eyes and dragged him to the line. _

_ “Tankie, I’m not scared. It’ll be fun!” _

_ After paying, they slid in the exposed gondola. Anarkiddy leaned on the railing as the ride started. Tankie’s brows knit together in worry.  _

_ “L-Lean back, comrade.” Tankie closed his eyes, counting backwards from ten under his breath.  _

_ Anarkiddy poked him. “Tankie, are  _ you _ scared?”  _

_ He scoffed. “No, of course not! I could never be scared of height…” he tried laughing to downplay it, but the laughter turned into pure nerves.  _

_ Tankie didn’t know what came over quem, but qui reached out and held his hand. He gripped it, not caring about the implications.  _

_ “Hey, it’ll be okay. Do you wanna talk about something? Would it help?”  _

God, quis an angel.  _ Tankie wiped the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.  _

_ “Maybe. You want to know why?” He didn’t know why he was saying these things. _

_ “Sure, if it helps. But you really don’t have to, Tankie.” _

_ He felt like his throat was coated in tar, his breath was shaky, and yet he still felt like he owed quem an explanation.  _

_ “You know the kulak we live with, right?” _

_ Anarkiddy nods.  _

_ “He’s threatened to throw me out of the… the… fuck, I forget the word in English. вертолет… ah, helicopter! Yes, the helicopter. Once, he took me on a ride. The fucker throws me out. You ever been thrown that high? No. So then I think to myself, ‘Well I’m dead now.’ I scream a-and,” he decided not to mention he cried. Tankie continued. “Then Ancap is diving too, laughing at me or because he’s falling too, I don’t know. He grabs me and then he lets out a parachute. He still laughs and I nearly strangled him when we got on ground.”  _

_ Anarkiddy’s eyes narrowed.  _

_ “Tankie, that’s… god, I’ll kill him.”  _

_ “Comrade, no.” _

_ “Comrade, yes! I’ll bash his head in!” _

_ Tankie smiled, his nerves calming down. The ride came to a stop and they exited the car. Anarkiddy rubbed quis hand that Tankie squeezed.  _

Ah..  _ He looked at his large, muscled hand.  _ I nearly killed quis arm.  _ Tankie felt sheepish. On one hand, he was embarrassed he would’ve vomited but on the other hand, this was the most he’d talked about… anything that wasn’t Lenin, Mao, or even Dunayevskaya’s letters.  _

_ Anarkiddy bit quis nails, then sighed.  _

_ “I’m sorry, Tankie. We can do anything you want from now on, okay?” Qui smiled in between. “It was really nice of you to do that for me. Whaddaya say, pal?” Anarkiddy could barely reach Tankie’s broad shoulder.  _

_ He tensed up from the touch.  _

_ “Fine then. We go to booths. Want to walk around?”  _

_ The grin widened. “Fine by me!”  _

  
  


_ -.-.-.-.-.-.-.- _

  
  


_ She was beauty, she was grace. _

_ She had a squishy, cute little face!  _

_ Tankie’s eyes gleamed at the sight of the fat, pink little bunny. Her ears flopped in the wind and best of all, her big beady eyes seemed to stare back at Tankie.  _

This is some capitalist bullshit. I want her.  _ He bit his lip.  _ Maybe I don’t need it. It’s not a necessity. I don’t want it. I do. I maybe… want it?

_ “You wanna try and play for it?” The anarchist nudged him towards the booth. “C’mon. I saw you staring.” _

_ Tankie huffed. “I don’t really need it. It’s mindless consumerism.. but I guess a play is fine. We can benefit the worker.”  _

_ Once they paid and were given rings, conversation was easy to strike up.  _

_ “Tankie?”  _

Toss. 

_ “Yes, Anarkiddy?” _

Toss. 

_ “When you said a date, did you mean it like.. you know?” _

Toss. 5 points. 

_ “It is more like…” He carefully chose his words, “something nice we can do. Get out of Ancap’s house, yeah?” _

Toss. 10 points. 

_ Anarkiddy fidgeted with quis rings. “Oh. I guess that makes sense. You sure there wasn’t more to it?” _

Toss. 15 points. 

_ “No, unless you want it to be.” Tankie licked his lips, realizing how forward he was. “I should focus. A few more bottles and I’ll win rabbit.” _

Toss.  _ The ring balanced perfectly on two rims. The one that would win the stuffed bunny, and another that wouldn’t. Anarkiddy yelped in excitement, then bumped the booth slightly.  _ Plink!

_ The ring was now around the winning bottle.  _

_ The attendant noticed. “Well big guy, it doesn’t count.” _

_ “What?” Tankie’s thick accent came out stronger. “It is now around the bottle. There was rule for it.” _

_ “Sorry man. It got bumped by your boyfriend, that’s cheating.” She blew a bubble with her gum.  _

_ Tankie sighed. “Capitalism is a mistake, but arguing with the worker is pointless. Is not your fault.” He paused. “That’s not my boyfriend…”  _

_ But he wished qui had one. He walked away and sat on a nearby bench.  _

_ His ears picked up a familiar shrieking voice. Is qui arguing…? _

_ “Watch it! You’re touching me without my consent!!!” _

_ He saw the hooded figure scampering towards him and weaving through the crowd, looking a bit… larger in the gut than usual.  _

_ Anarkiddy was now inches from his face.  _

_ “Hey pal.” _

_ “I- oh. What take you so long?” Tankie inquired, trying to remain cool and collected.  _

_ Anarkiddy patted quis hoodie.  _

_ “Oh you know, just mutually aiding someone. Maybe I freed the oppressed from being under capitalist torture!” Qui reached under their hoodie. Tankie flinched and faced another way.  _

_ “Tankie. You can look now, I wouldn’t get naked in public.” Qui held out… the bunny? _

_ “Comrade, I… Ancom. Thank you.” Tankie bit his lip, forcing the tears back. This was the most thoughtful thing someone had ever done for him. He clutched it to his chest.  _

_ “Did you think I was really gonna let them keep it?” Qui leaned back and held quis hands out. “Hell no! I’ll take every opportunity to just grab shit and go!”  _

_ “Anarkiddy. Hush. You are being too loud. You will get arrested.” _

_ “Well? It ain’t my first rodeo, but it was a little hard to sneak it under. By the way, what name and pronouns will you give it?” Qui crouched down to the rabbit.  _

_ “Her name is Detka. It means baby.” He didn’t add that it could also mean “whore,” but Anarkiddy wouldn’t know that. _

_ Anarkiddy shook her hand. “I’m Ancom, qui/quem. You better be nice to him after all the work I’ve done to get you.” _

_ Tankie allowed himself another small smile. Qui really outdid quemself, lifting something so stupid.  _

For me. 

_ -.-.-.-.-.-.- _

  
  


_ The bunny was tucked into his inner coat pocket, along with his cigarettes and a copy of the Manifesto. The two leftists walked along, chatting idly about the fair. It was nice, not talking about the Anti-Centrist calling them about a Centricide, not about theory, not even about their contempt for their rightist roommates.  _

_ It was just Tankie, Anarkiddy, and the joyful people around them.  _

_ “Hey Tankie? I think me not getting arrested for once calls for celebration!” Qui fished in quis pockets. “It’s gotta be here somewhere… aha!” A flask seemed to materialize out of nowhere.  _

_ Tankie winced. “Comrade. Where did you get that?” He grabbed it, flicked the cap off, sniffed. “It’s fucking strong, even for me. You sure we can..?” _

_ Qui patted him on the back, making his muscles tense. “Yeah yeah bud! Don’t worry about it, we’ll both be fine. Wanna chill before the fireworks start?” _

_ “Go ahead.”  _

_ -.-.-.-.-.- _

  
  


_ A crowd was gathered in the open fields, blankets were strewn about and a baby was being rocked to sleep. Children were climbing on nearby trees as their parents called out to them to sit down. Anticipation seemed to hang in the air as the deep blue skies turned orange, then red, then the same pink as the cotton candy at the fair, then finally black.  _

_ Tankie took another swig of Anarkiddy’s questionable drink. His tolerance was higher than the anarchist’s, but even he felt the effects much quicker.  _

_ “Tankie?” _

_ “Yes?” _

_ “I think… this is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” Qui leaned on his shoulder. For once, Tankie wasn’t sure whether it was the drink or him blaming his actions on said drink, but he didn’t stop the contact.  _

_ “Me too.” His glance shifted from the sky to Ancom.  _

_ There was something so different about quem tonight. The way quis eyes reflected the stars and how quis freckles looked like constellations scattered on the nose. The way qui nestled so perfectly next to him. How perfect quis lips. How lovely quis smile.  _

_ Tankie leaned closer. He didn’t want to stop. They were so close.. just too close.. _

_ Quis lips tasted like spun sugar and the alcohol they drank. They felt so warm and soft and he wanted so much more.  _

Bang!  _ The fireworks were gliding in the air and bursting like Tankie’s heart.  _

_ He didn’t want to break this. He wanted to take this moment and wrap himself in it forever.  _

But he couldn’t. Because he was a coward. 

_ Tankie broke the kiss. Ancom touched quis lips, stunned.  _

I have to get out of here. 

_ “C-Commie? Hey, what are you—?” Ancom scrambled to get up.  _

_ “I think I am too drunk. I’m so sorry, forgive me.” Tankie stumbled throughout the crowd, not even uttering any apologies.  _

_ “Tankie! It’s fine, really! I.. I need you to bring us home.” Anarkiddy looked just about ready to collapse.  _

_ Tankie swallowed his pride, what little remained.  _ Qui really is a lightweight.  _ He grabbed quis hand.  _

_ “We don’t ever speak of this again. Please. I’m sorry.” Tankie licked his lips. “We go home now. You had too much to drink too, yes?”  _

_ Anarkiddy pouted. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t know.. I think I’m gonna… fuck…” Qui gripped Tankie’s shoulder. “We really should get home. Yeah. Let’s go.” _

  
  


_ -.-.-.-.-.- _

  
  


_ Anarkiddy clumsily opened the bathroom door, hoisted quemself over the bathtub, and emptied the contents of quis stomach. Tankie held quis hoodie and hair back tenderly. Sometimes he felt more like every extremist’s mother rather than peer, and this was such a time.  _

_ “You done?” _

_ Anarkiddy whimpered in response.  _

_ Tankie wiped qui’s mouth. _

_ “Can you walk?” _

_ “Yeah. Yeah, I can. Thanks..”  _

_ They sat in silence for a few beats.  _

_ “About what happened… back there?” Anarkiddy struggled to get the words out. “It’s.. fine, really. And I know you don’t wanna really talk about it anymore but it was fine, really. I promise. Fuck I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, can we go to bed?” _

_ Tankie nodded, leading Anarkiddy to quis room.  _

_ “In the morning, we take painkillers and drink water only. And Ancom?”  _

_ “Huh?” _

_ “Take your sneakers off. I hate washing your blanket and seeing the mud.” _

_ Qui ignored him and flopped on the bed, curling up in a pile of unwashed clothes and quis blanket.  _

_ Tankie closed the door. He stood, processing the fact that he both kissed quem and that qui said it was fine. So why was he scared?  _

Because he didn’t deserve that. And maybe, just maybe if he wouldn’t have been such a coward, he could’ve kept quem from leaving them all. 

  
  


Tankie closed the same door. He silently walked to his own room. 

_ Quis gone. And there is nothing I can do about it.  _

Then he threw her. The bunny was lopsided, the only mess on his floor besides his papers and book scattered desk. But that would change. 

Tankie made a choking sound. A small sob. Then, when he felt that wasn’t enough, he slid his fingers under his desk. The papers cascaded as his scream rang out. His precious books fell and had their pages crumpled. 

He stomped to his glasses, grabbing the one that wasn’t filled with vodka and throwing it at his beloved picture of Lenin. The frame broke, and with it, fell the image. 

His heavy pants slowed. The tears streamed down his cheeks and he shrugged his coat off. 

He walked towards Detka, crouching, then picking her up. Her fur contrasted with his solid black turtleneck. 

Tankie kept wiping his cheeks, giving up after realizing he couldn’t stop crying.

_ Qui’s not coming back. Qui’s not coming back.  _

He repeated this mantra under his breath, walking back to Ancom’s room. Tankie ignored the calls of his roommates, locking the door behind him and shutting out the knocking. He swung open quis messy closet, looking for a hoodie, trying to get quis scent. He remembered qui only owned one hoodie. 

_ Quis blanket.  _

He slid his boots off, dropping them near another pile of dirty socks. His ushanka was askew. 

He wrapped himself in the blanket, taking in Ancom’s scent. Qui was weed and gasoline and chocolate bars and home. 

His tears dried on the sheets. He felt his eyelids grow heavier… heavier… and they were closed. 

His dreaming mind wandered to places where Ancom and he were dancing in the flower fields, laughing and holding each other. There was no pain, no Centricide. Just the two lovers. 

And they kissed and fell in each other’s arms. 

He wanted to kiss quem. He wanted to feel so much again, he wished he could’ve done something about it. 

Just one more kiss. One last time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Author here. This one was actually on the back burner and has had WAY more planning than my previous fic. I don’t know. I just make write machine go brrrr
> 
> Socials: MewMewMadness (twitter and tumblr)
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated, and I thank you all so much for my first fic being received so well! Reading everything is making me so happy and always makes me want to write more 💙
> 
> If you liked this work, check out my others


End file.
